Wednesday
by FrenchCaresse
Summary: When Katze opened the bedroom door to check on Riki, the first thing that smacked him hard was the smell. Sex, oh god. Pure musky smells of sweat and hot and cum, blending with the prickly scent of over-exerted Android, fuck. Katze took deep breaths, clutching his crotch over his pants and revelling in the essence of undistilled decadence. One-shot. Set in KATZE'S VERSE.


_Hey guys!_

 _I was enjoying waking up an hour later every morning, until I got the writing itch again. So I thought, well how about an easy bit of Riki/Katze porn!_

 _Except I'd forgotten how intense this verse is and how everything has so many layers and... Well._

 _Warning for emotional ups and downs and angst and broken Katze. And Riki shining at his best._

* * *

Wedneday.

It was a wednesday.

And a most satisfying wednesday, if you asked Katze. Work had gone well; the hours flying by, buoyed by the excitement the dealer tried to temper. Wednesdays were the day he had his training sessions with Raoul.

And THIS wedneday, Iason had promised to test Raoul's progress, after.

Katze was quite sure he would have been half-hard all fucking day, if he'd been able to. Anticipation sang along his veins, tattooing invisible webs over his tone body. Maybe Katze had let a small half-smile turn his lips for no reason, and maybe his eyes had sparkled more than usual. And that gangster who'd fucked up was really lucky Katze had been in too much of a hurry to properly punish him.

He was Katze, head of Ceres Black Market. His employees didn't even notice his quirks, bunch of sheep they were.

Raoul noticed, of course, but he didn't comment. In fact, the curly Blondie was secretely pleased at how responsive Katze was. The human bit his lip and seemed calm enough upon arrival, but he threw himself almost agressively into the hypnosis.

Like someone who'd been anticipating it all day.

But of course, today was wednesday. Raoul suppressed the feeling of his own engorged penis, poking swollen down his pant leg. Raoul did absolutely nothing about the physical discomfort. Ever. Instead, he crooned dirty suggestions at the dealer under his influence in a melodious wash of sound, pretending to be unaffected. Katze's eyelids fluttered and his graceful hands clenched and unclenched by his side, his body responding absolutely beautifully to suggestion.

Raoul worked the human up until a small sound like a tortured sob escaped pale parted lips. Too much.

Raoul gritted his teeth against the urge to push Katze that tiny bit more, tumble him over into orgasm. Instead, the Blondie set about calming his patient in slow increments, watching frustration turn to serenity as Katze accepted that he was going to leave unfulfilled.

It wasn't _that_ kind of wednesday. The odd wednesday when Raoul pushed Katze so close to the edge that he couldn't wait to be back home to relieve himself was a rare occurence indeed.

 _Four times._ Four memorable wednesdays. That was how often Katze had bowed, red-faced and brittle with restraint after their session, and then disappeared into the washroom just outside the door. Not that Raoul was counting or anything.

...

Katze thumbed the bracelet back on as soon as he was alone in the car.

His sharp breath unexpectedly overfilled his lungs with bitter smoke and his eyes watered. Katze stopped himself from coughing like a teen trying his first cigarette, chest spasming and eyes watering.

Smiling wryly made his scar tissue pull as Katze reversed the car out of his parking space.

The bracelet vibrating the fine bones of his wrist only added to his tension. Katze couldn't get hard, not really, but Raoul's training was beginning to take shape. The buzzing gnawed at Katze's nerves, coiling in his gut. He wanted to be hard, and his dick was half-heartedly paying attention for the first time in his life. Katze's mutilated genitals tingled with potential, blood filled and heavy. Not hard, not yet. The only thing that twitched repetively in absolute rock-hard response to the cue was his flat stomach, jostling the sleepy chub trying to wake up below. Just as Riki had noticed. _Damn, maybe Riki would be there tonight._

Riki assisted Iason, some wednesdays.

Katze shifted gears, carefully replacing both hands on the steering wheel.

That was the worst bit, actually. The urge to _touch_ was terrible. With the bracelet demanding an erection and his body half-failing, his stupid brain kept insisting that he should get a hand down there and remedy the situation.

Glancing at where the seat-belt cut across slim hips, over the slight bulge in his navy slacks, Katze indulged in a dramatic sigh then barked a sharp laugh of self-derision. Shoulders tense, Katze focused on the road. Letting a hand rest in his lap was clearly out of the question, even though he literally ached to soothe the longing.

Katze could hardly wait to get to Iason's. He felt more alive than he had in a long time, nerves sparking and body primed.

God, he loved wednesdays.

...

Katze let himself silently into Iason's penthouse. His shoes squeaked on impecabbly polished floors of pale wood when he brought himself to a skidding stop in the living room door.

Iason was up.

The Blondie was tall and impressive, in the process of buttoning his black and white ceremonial robes. The First One looked professional and put together as he finished doing up his collar.

Fuck.

"Katze." Iason blinked, perfect eyelashes sweeping up then down a tad too slowly.

Katze could see his great mind running through the data, putting Katze's flushed appearance and the late hour together.

"Oh. Right. Today is wednesday."

His Master's voice stirred the lust in Katze and the red-head swallowed down his disappointment. Clearly, there had been a change in plans.

Iason carefully placed his gloves, piled together, onto the back of the couch.

Suddenly, he towered in Katze's space. God, his hair smelled good.

"I am sorry, but there is an emergency council meeting." Iason really shouldn't whisper such serious words that intimately, nose sliding softly along Katze's neck and making him shiver.

Katze cleared his throat, pleased when he found his professionnal voice despite being severely distracted by Iason kissing further down his neck, digging into his coat collar.

"Of course, Master. I shall leave immediately."

Katze would have bowed, except Iason chose that moment to suck hard, right where his neck met his shoulder, and he suddenly needed all of his concentration to remain standing.

The Blondie merely hummed, tongue tracing wet patterns that his lips chased on the Castrate's arching neck.

Iason's glorious hair fell around his head, catching in the buttons of Katze's coat. Katze forced himself to stillness, but he _ached_ at the torture of his lover's sweet kisses that he knew could lead to nothing.

" _Iason_." Katze complained breathily several minutes later. Katze was seriously in danger of losing his fucking mind, head thrown back and hands helplessly clutching the stiff fabric over Iason's strong biceps.

The Blondie pulled back. Twisting a hand into Katze's hair, he angled his servant's head just how he wanted it; illuminated by a beam of light from the hall. Katze was arousingly docile in his arms, submitting to the over-extension that strained his neck with a quiet grunt.

Iason pursed his lips as he studied his servant intently; Katze blushed and closed his eyes at the intensity.

Iason's lips descended on his forehead in a wet push, and Katze felt the tremor that shook _both_ of them at the contact. The red-head thrilled to realize his Master was responding to his arousal.

The simple fact that Iason had by-passed Katze's lips spoke volumes.

Iason could not risk getting lost in a kiss when the whole damn council waited on him. Making out could easily slip into more, and the Blondie was uncertain enough of his ability to restrain their combined passions that he had chosen not to initate a real kiss.

Katze was on fucking fire.

Iason could read it in every angle of his willowy body, in every rasping breath.

Iason's large hand suddenly wrapped, hot and too tight, around Katze's wrist; clamped hard over the bracelet, savoring the insistent vibration.

"Hmmm." Iason licked at Katze's lips, a fleeting touch that disappeared the moment the red-head parted them on a gasp.

"Trying to be hard for me?" Iason asked.

Katze swallowed, decided his voice was hopelessly gone and settled for a tight nod, eyes liquid-black in his pale face.

Iason's hand made a motion as if to reach for Katze's pants-front, and the dealer suddenly bolted. Backing up a quick step or two, he twisted from Iason's arms with the ease of long years of martial arts practice.

Fuck.

The instinctive fleeing of more torture had been a mistake. The flash of _predator_ in Iason's blue eyes told the dealer that his escape had awaken the Blondie's need to dominate.

Fuck fuck fuck.

"We can take this up at a more convenient time." Katze said, hoping the words would be enough to force Iason to calm, even if they were too choppy.

Iason's smile was pure evil.

"Oh, we will." He growled. Katze shivered.

Time stood still.

Then the Blondie spun around and retrieved his gloves from the couch.

He returned to Katze, eyes crinkling at the edges as he asked "And what will you do about all this beautiful tension tonight, then?"

Katze blinked, then stared at the floor in stony silence.

Nothing.

He would most likely do _nothing_. He would switch off the bracelet, go home and smoke a few cigarettes, pottering about on the internet. Then he would go to bed. Katze was having more sex lately than he had ever enjoyed before. He couldn't seem to make himself do it alone though. A lifetime of letting desire go to sleep inside him was a habit hard to break. It was just so much easier to ignore arousal and not have to face his conscience that was still unsure his current path wouldn't lead to heart-break.

Iason sighed, watching his servant.

The stubborn angle of his jaw clearly indicated he would not relieve himself. Katze was an enigma. He currently had all, if not more, than most mongrels dreamed of; he was certainly the most powerful castrate on the planet. Yet he was still devoured by insecurity and self-doubt, prone to melancoly and refusing himself simple pleasures out of some goddamn feeling of inadequacy.

Iason couldn't let that happen, not today. It was wednesday after all.

Tugging his gloves on in sharp, efficient moves, Iason generously offered. "You may take Riki."

Katze's head snapped up, eyes bright and unreadable.

Iason was forced to admit " Perhaps in a little while..."

The quick shake that made his long hair fall into place around him was a dead give-away he was purposefully gathering his public persona.

"I am afraid he is quite... unusable... at the moment."

Before Katze could answer, Iason's hand reached out to touch his cheek.

"Seems like a waste to let all of Raoul's efforts at working you up simply fade in front of your computers."

Katze couldn't answer, overcome by a wave of emotion as he tended to be when Iason surprised him by acting tenderly thoughtful towards him.

"Good night." Iason's face was an unexpressive mask and his voice was cold, but Katze was warmed throughout anyway.

"Good night." He answered softly. Then, too late because Iason was already out of the room, he added. "Thank you."

Katze was pretty sure that with his android senses, Iason heard him anyway.

...

The dealer managed to put off going to the bedroom for another five minutes. A quick smoke, removing his coat and toeing of his shoes. A message from work that chimed on his personal com unit. After that, Katze ran out of excuses.

When Katze opened the bedroom door to check on Riki - what the heck was "unusable" supposed to mean when talking about a human being anyway?- the first thing that smacked him hard was the smell.

 _Sex_ , oh god. Pure musky smells of sweat and _hot_ and cum, blending with the prickly scent of over-exerted Android, fuck.

Katze took deep breaths, clutching his crotch over his pants and revelling in the essence of undistilled decadence.

Venturing into the room, Katze saw Riki, passed out on the rumpled bed.

Like the first time he had played with them, Katze spent a silent moment drinking in the sight. Riki appeared mostly intact; tan skin stretched untorn over corded muscles, limbs splayed every which way in slumber.

Just worn out from sex then, no violence tonight.

Riki wasn't cuffed, not anymore, but his wrists were red and chaffed. Katze wanted to lick the broken skin. The Pet's back and shoulders were littered with subtle marks; Katze could imagine Iason pressing sucking kisses or maybe gentle bites to the salty skin as he fucked Riki deeply, strong buttocks flexing. The golden sheets were clawed away from the mattress, Riki's writhing or Iason's strong pumping having pulled the corners free.

Katze groaned, the small sound swallowed by the darkness. His head resonated with the imagined grunts and pleas that must have filled the air moments before.

Stepping closer, Katze worked his pants open one-handed. He sat lightly on the edge of the bed, finally stroking over his grateful member.

God, Riki was sexy.

And he was all Katze's for tonight, fuck.

Katze bit his lip, placing trembling fingers on the back of Riki's thigh. The Pet's skin was cool to the touch, little hairs crinkling under Katze's mesmerized caress.

Katze's fingers stroked shyly, following the fold between thigh and ass-cheek.

Riki did not respond at all, peacefully sleeping.

Katze froze. Was that...

He slowly pulled his hand up until the light from the window illuminated it.

Shit.

Katze's fingers glistened, wet with lube and probably Iason's cum.

Shit.

Katze stared some more. He actually _felt_ the slow rush of heat that spread out from the pit of his stomach, burning wave that swelled until his head spun and his dick kicked.

Without really thinking, Katze pressed his hand back to Riki's leg. He inched his fingers higher, into the hot dark crevice; found it literally _coated_ with more obscene juices.

Katze shuddered, a full-on body convulsion.

Fuck, why was he so turned on by the evidence of Riki and Iason's love-making?

Katze should let Riki sleep, god, except he couldn't seem to pull his hand away. A furtive glance up showed Riki was STILL completely passed out. Something was seriously wrong with Katze; he couldn't seem to do the decent thing and leave his lover to recuperate.

Breathing in jerky gasps, Katze _still_ couldn't get enough air.

Keeping his fingertips gently inserted between Riki's cheeks, Katze couldn't, _just couldn't_ , stop his other hand from pumping fast over his own cock.

Katze bit his lip, face flaming at how _wrong_ it was for him to do this to a sleeping Riki; he stared wide-eyed at the motionless line of Riki's spine, troubled by how _good_ his reprensible act felt.

A groan threatened to spill out, and Katze forced himself to swallow it down, throat clicking.

Katze's fingers moved unbidden; they slid in the slickness until he lightly traced the Pet's swollen hole, felt it twitch in response.

Fuuuuuuuuuck.

Katze really needed to stop.

He _couldn't_.

If Riki had been awake, he would have been howling indignantly or maybe throwing a punch at Katze.

It was what made the forbidden exploration so hot, Katze reasoned through the spinning in his head.

There was no place for shame in the oppressive darkness. Riki was peaceful in his blissed out rest; Katze wanted to cry at how vulnerable the boy suddenly seemed. Riki was completely open.

Riki was Iason's, marked and owned.

 _And Iason wanted to share him with Katze._

Katze straightened, fully intending to use his introspective moment to gather the self-control to break free from the spell Riki's body had put on his lust.

Riki must have felt the bed shift, or maybe Katze's fingers moved, because the Pet mumbled incoherently and rolled to his side.

And suddenly, just like that, Katze's two fingers were buried inside the warm wet heat of Riki's loosened hole.

Katze froze, heart thundering a mile a minute.

Fuck, _fuck_.

The castrate couldn't see Riki's face in the shadows; he couldn't see fucking _anything_ except for the darker patch of Riki's unruly hair. Any second now, the Pet would wake and yell at Katze.

Riki stirred; he said something, a string of nonsensical vowels with a couple consonants thrown in. Katze was nauseaous with anxiety at getting caught violating his friend.

Riki didn't wake fully though. He slowly relaxed, breaths evening out while Katze's dick pulsed in agony.

And when Riki let out a soft snort, digging deeper into the pillow, Katze remembered how to breathe.

Fuck.

He thrummed with passion. Katze moved his fingers a fraction deeper into that inviting softness. Then, when he got no reaction, a bit further.

Riki grunted. His anus clamped down hard, squeezing Katze's fingers brutally until the reflex passed and he loosened again.

 _Fuck_.

Katze was fingering Riki without his knowledge or consent.

He was no better than Iason.

Fuck.

Katze's dick pounded mercilessly. He wanted to cum.

No.

 _No_.

In a supreme effort of will, Katze tore his fingers away from the enticing warmth.

No. He wouldn't. He wasn't a Blondie; he respected Riki as a friend.

God, it actually physically hurt to restrain himself, little twitches all over his body; junkie jitters from the longing to lose himself in sex, in Riki. Katze clenched his fists, hard, _harder_ , digging his nails into his palms. Angrily, he thumbed the bracelet off. It didn't help.

Panting, he bent forward over his knees, sick with need and self-hatred.

Katze didn't realize he was keening softly in his misery until Riki snuffled awake.

The Pet's head turned and Riki's eyelids fluttered. His nose scrunched and he peeked groggily through the slit of his eyelasheses.

Riki registered the curled form beside him on the bed without really understanding the vision.

"Waaah..." He croaked, blinking hard and trying to focus.

Katze, pants undone and head in his hand. What the heck?

The castrate's auburn hair seemed black in the night, falling in pointy shapes over the creamy whiteness of the skin at his nape. How pretty.

"Sorry. I'm sorry." The dealer choked out, and Riki awoke some more at the unexpected emotion in the rough whisper.

Riki tried to get his brain back into gear, stretching with a groan. Iason had outdone himself earlier. Riki's whole body felt wrung out, his muscles watery and his asshole throbbing.

Why was Katze so upset?

Riki realized the castrate was clutching his dick in a bruising fist.

His really hard, really leaking dick.

Riki's mouth watered at the unusual sight.

Riki tried to force sluggish mental connections to click; he needed to understand why Katze was so horny he was touching himself in Iason's bed. And still apologizing sporadically, shaking all over. At least he wasn't crying; Riki had seen Katze crying only once before and, strangely, it has been in healing, not pain.

It just made no sense.

Riki knew Katze had some deep deep issues, and for some reason he was beating himself up badly tonight.

Riki couldn't fucking think though. Not now.

He gave up trying to understand the _why_. He still needed to do something about the situation though. Instinct told the mongrel how to snap his friend from his downward spiral.

"Kat." Riki said. Fuck, he sounded like whore, voice ragged from shouting and sleep.

When he got no answer, Riki tried a louder " Kat!" with a half-assed bump of his wrist into Katze's knee.

Katze's head lifted; his eyes were pools of darkness staring mutely at his lover. It was unnerving.

Riki sighed. He really needed a shower to deal with this. Or a beer.

"Kiss me." Riki said instead.

And Katze did, after a heart-beat or two.

At first, the kiss was full of trembling lips and desperation; it gradually slid into something more manageable. The kiss grew less frantic, more tender.

Katze pulled back for a deep inhale, reaching up to cup Riki's jaw. Then he deepened the kiss, sliding his tongue into Riki's mouth. Riki hummed, mellow and obedient under Katze's revived urgency.

Katze's confidence returned: his hands began moving over Riki. The mongrel arched and offered himself up, flowing into a pleasant half-dreamy aroused state.

Time stuttered and slowed then.

Riki reveled in his lover's attention. Katze was a great kisser; his lazy petting was stimulating and soothing at the same time.

Riki wasn't really paying all that much attention to exactly _where_ the castrate's hands roamed on his body, or to the absence of touch to either of their dicks. Let Katze take all the time he needed; Riki was still sated and in no hurry at all.

It was only when Katze's fingers slid down his ass-crack that Riki clued in to what had upset the dealer earlier.

Long fingers stilled, just barely touching his rim. Katze inhaled sharply, panicking again. Fuck, his subconscious had betrayed him and brought his treacherous hands right back to where he'd been meaning to avoid. Riki's ass flexed, trapping his hand. So so so hot. Katze's hips rocked in a jerking _needy_ spasm that made the mattress creak.

"Sorry." Katze hid his burning face in Riki's neck.

"Sorry, sorry, oh god." he moaned again, but his fingers stayed right where they were, pushing lightly at the Pet's hole, filthy with cooling fluids.

Oh.

Katze's knee knocked into Riki when his legs opened and closed fitfully, too much tension between them to contain. The dealer's shoulders were one tense mass under Riki's fists, making his shirt pull tight.

Oh.

 _Now_ Riki got why Katze was more upset than he had ever seen him.

Katze obviously belived it was wrong to be with Riki, _to want Riki,_ just after Iason had totally ravaged him.

Riki pulled his head back, forced Katze to meet his gaze.

"Kat?" He questionned.

"I'm sorry." Katze whispered yet again. His eyes were wide and mesmerizing; his scar was a mysterious dash down his cheek.

"I can't..." The castrate trembled with the visceral urge to take Riki.

"I need..." Taking a stuttering breath, Katze finished softly, eyes down-cast. "I'll go."

Riki bent forward and bit Katze's lip in sharp retaliation when he made to pull away.

"Don't be stupid." Riki had been in much worse shape than he was tonight. He rolled over, half onto his front and cupped his somewhat hard dick.

He angled his ass up, blatant invitation, when Katze just sat there.

Katze hesitated one extra heartbeat; then he was stripping off his clothes, unusually clumsy in his haste.

He kneeled behind Riki, possessively pulling his butt closer. Fevered, he kneaded the round flesh.

Katze mumbled. "You sure?

Riki rolled his eyes.

"Yeah."

He groaned as Katze's hard dick pressed up against his swollen entrance.

"You nee-huh-need it... " He added, but the words were lost in a slicing breath when Katze slipped his cock into him. Fire awoke in Riki's backside.

Katze stopped after the first dizzying slide; fully seated on the first thrust because of the abundant lubrication, fuck. He panted great breaths, aware of the sudden tightness all along Riki's back.

Katze was hurting Riki, shit. The thought was dim, battling with how badly he wanted more. His dick was killing him.

"Sorry." he repeated breathlessly, peppering useless kisses over Riki's shoulder-blades.

Riki made a tortured sound in acknowledgement. He could _feel_ Katze's cock throb, for god's sake.

"Fuck me." He urged, roughly.

Katze waited a second or two before slowly pulling out.

The way Riki's white teeth bared at the drag of friction clearly broadcast that it was too much. He didn't protest though, just dug his nails into the mattress and bowed his head.

Riki pushed slowly back when Katze hesitated too long; worked his wiry body to a low crouch, spine twisting with overstimulation.

Katze was overwhelmed with gratitude that Riki would do this for him. Knowing he was causing him pain threatened to make the castrate lose his erection though.

"Go deep and grind, man." Riki instructed hoarsely, wiping sweat from his face.

Katze did, and ok. That was good.

It was fucking good.

The fullness felt good, without the hurt of irritating drag. God, it felt as though Katze's dick was massive, nudging repeatedly against Riki's good spot inside.

Fuck.

Riki writhed into the carnal motion, Katze bent low over his back.

The desperate grunts the dealer made as he rocked a bit faster, buried so fucking deep, were like nothing Riki had ever heard him make. The air around them seemed to boil, making a sheen of sweat cover both gasping lovers. Riki's dick was hard now, curving under him like an after-thought. His arms gave out. Riki let his chest rest on the bed and simply took what Katze gave him, moaning continuously.

Katze couldn't stop anymore.

It was so good, so so fucking goood. It was so right to push into the hot slippery mess of Riki's ass. His fingers clenched over Riki's hips, _too hard,_ trying to anchor him in the sensations. God, he hoped Riki was okay. It was hard to tell; the Pet sounded almost delirious, a continuous flow of lustful sounds pouring from him.

 _Like when Iason fucked him._

And then Katze lost whatever tiny scrap of control he had left.

All that was left was the pleasure.

Pleasure that was building, deep deep deep, and Katze didn't even try to fight it. His lean body rippled as he savored every slow thrust, the teeth-grinding increase of pressure, deep deep deep in his belly. Riki was boneless under him, babbling filth.

Deep deep deep-rooted, the pleasure expanded, pushed out, filled him; until it overwhelmed Katze completely.

God.

Katze's final strokes were quick snaps of his hips, knocking Riki's teeth together.

And then his body overloaded.

Deep deep deep, the orgasm flew; it felt wrenched cruelly from his very soul.

Katze shuddered and shuddered, head thrown back.

Calming, he pressed weak kisses wherever he could reach on Riki.

Finally, he gathered the strength to grip the base of his dick and pull out in a rushing slide.

Jupiter. Katze's vision whited out, the feeling almost as intense as the orgasm.

For long minutes, Katze kneeled motionless behind Riki's crumpled body, panting. He was unbalanced; stripped bare inside and out. The tumultuous emotions from earlier circled lazily in his psyche, waiting for the satisfaction to wear off enough to overwhelm him again.

It was Riki who pulled him out of it.

The pet groaned theatrically then pushed off the bed. He stumbled, knees weak and Katze reached out to instinctively grab him.

"Shower." Riki said and Katze could only mutely follow.

...

In the warm bathroom, water streaming down their sides, the two mongrels hugged for a long while.

Riki spoke softly into Katze's neck. "We should talk."

And Katze's stomach sank but he squared his shoulders bravely.

"Yes." He answered, voice tight.

Riki hugged him closer; listened to Katze's heart pound, ear pressed to his hairless chest.

"Later." Riki decided and Katze let out a breath he hadn't known he was holding.

"Shower, then food, then talk." Riki declared firmly; his hands circled down Katze's back and cupped the castrate's rear, digging in.

Yes. God yes.

It was only fair. Katze wasn't going to push Riki away for sure.

"You want?" He asked with an arched eyebrow.

Riki's hands squeezed again and he knew an invitation when he heard one. His heart skipped an eager beat and he evaluated himself.

Riki's dick was slumped between his thighs, water falling off the tip. It didn't seem particularly interested in all the naked skin rubbing close.

Hmmmm.

Riki stroked his cock inquisitively a few times, wincing at the light touch. He moved his fingers lower, to his loose ballsack; felt the soreness of heavy congestion.

Frowning, Riki let go of his genitals and kissed Katze instead.

"I want." He confirmed.

"Maybe later." He added.

Katze suddenly thought of something.

"Oh god, Riki, did you even..."

Riki didn't answer, trying to crawl into Katze's skin it seemed.

"You didn't cum, did you?" Katze fretted

"I. Yes. I did." Riki answered. It was a half-lie.

He had been wrung dry multiple times by Iason. It was not Katze's fault that Riki hadn't finished with him. But if he told him _that_ , Katze would feel guilty and want to... Riki's dick still felt raw and achy.

Fuck no, he didn't want to play with it.

He spread Katze's tight ass when the red-head looked ready to call the bluff. Time for distraction.

"I could eat your ass, you know. It's so tiny and cute."

"Fucking hot!" Riki added. The castrate gave a surprised whimper, all thought of Riki's dishonesty flying out the window at the suggestive press of a slim wet finger.

Riki could just imagine the scene and it was a huge turn-on.

The water everywhere, the way Katze's thighs would shake as Riki's tongue worked against his tight hole. The raw sounds he would make.

Fuck.

Riki shivered pleasurably, but he was too content to actually put the plan in motion. His energy level wasn't high enough for initiative yet.

Katze held him, whispering "I'd let you." They kissed softly, smooth skin rubbing and tongues brushing each other.

Riki smiled at Katze, his Pet's smirk, full of naughty promise.

"Maybe another time, huh?"

Katze blushed and nodded.

"Okay. I'd like that, I think." He confessed shyly.

"Good." Riki turned the water off and shivered at the relative cold air outside the shower enclosure. He toweled himself off, then shook his head wildly, flinging stinging drops of water at Katze.

"Food." He proclaimed, heading to the bedroom.

Katze scrubbed himself dry more slowly. His dark thoughts were still lurking inside, but he was mostly calm.

Katze suddenly thought of the unexplained hurry in Riki's step. His sudden revival was suspicious.

Katze blinked.

Oh fuck. Of course... Katze rushed to the bedroom, but it was too late.

Riki was already buttoning himself into Katze's black shirt.

Damn.

Sighing hugely despite how his lips tried to grin, Katze settled for wearing only his pants.

Shirtless.

Again.

Riki laughed gaily, rolling too-long sleeves, and raced for the kitchen.

Katze complained on principle, nipples pebbling in the draft from the corridor. In truth, warm fondness made his toes curl.

Deep in the pantry, Riki was picking out cereal. Katze leaned against the shelves, waiting for his turn. His hand hovered before settling on the oat granola he usually ate. It was filled with nuts and protein and tiny seeds whose texture Katze disliked but tolerated because they were supposedly loaded with good fats.

He entered the kitchen to find Riki had poured two white bowls of the sugary crap he ate. Grinning from ear to ear, Riki pushed one towards Katze, who settled onto a stool with a long-suffering smile.

Riki happily crunched away while Katze pointedly swirled his spoon in the cereal. There looked to be actual pieces of candy in there, god.

Resigned, he lifted the spoon for a dainty bite. Fuck, Riki had even managed to knock Katze off his spoon game!

The one he'd given Katze was much too big for cereal.

It was a big honking soup spoon that Katze could hardly wrap his lips around. The red-head rolled his eyes, wiping milk from the corner of his mouth.

Riki groaned in exagerated bliss; Katze smiled quietly back at him.

The mongrel was an enigma. How could someone who let himself be fucked to the point of pain and beyond still swoon for something like the simple pleasure of cereal?

Katze shook his head and downed a few swallows of the cereal. It was good; so sweet his teeth practically vibrated, but good anyway.

"So." Riki gestured with his own giant spoon. "You freaked out."

Katze stopped eating, a huge lump suddenly stuck sideways in his throat.

"Yes." he responded, because really, what else could he say?

"Why, man?" Riki didn't seem too bothered, shovelling softening O's into his mouth while staring curiously at Katze through his bangs. The Pet's expression was open and not accusing at all; he seemed genuinely curious.

Katze swirled his spoon, watching eddies of color bleed into the milk. It reminded him of Riki's blood turning the shower water pink. Suddenly disgusted, Katze pushed his bowl away.

"I touched you, Riki." Katze admitted.

Riki shrugged, chasing a few last floating pieces in his bowl.

"Riki, I _touched_ you." Katze repeated. "When you were asleep."

"So?" Riki cradled his bowl in dark fingers, lifting it up to drink the sugared milk.

Katze flustered, needing to get his point across.

"Riki, I ... I put my finger in your ass while you slept." Katze knew he was bright red, but he had to get Riki to understand. "You were fucking unconscious and just lying there and you were so hot and I shouldn't have, God, I'm sorry."

Riki stared back levelly.

"I know." He answered.

Katze wished the floor would swallow him.

"It doesn't bother me, Kat." Riki said, slipping around the counter to tuck himself against Katze's side.

"But." Katze started, only to be cut off.

"I said it doesn't bother me. I've had much worse done to me. Why does it bother _you_ so much?"

"Because." Katze stopped, choked with emotion. He took a deep huffing breath, then another, trying to work out exactly why he felt so awful. Riki deserved an honest answer.

"It was _wrong_. I touched you, I _fucked_ you. Without your consent."

Katze's voice was thin, bright with pure determination when he vowed. "I'm not Iason."

In that one sentence, Riki got a glimpse of the unhealthy feelings Katze hid beneath his calm facade; fierce hatred and simmering anger, willing submission and the helpless adoration of an ex-furniture for his Master.

His heart hurt for his friend.

Riki wrapped an arm around Katze's waist, hugging him closer.

"No." He agreed. "You're not Iason."

Katze looked down at him, hanging onto every word.

"You wouldn't hurt me." Riki said fiercely. Then, when Katze's mouth opened to protest, louder:

"You WOULDN'T. Not really. You don't _want_ to hurt me. You care."

Katze stared, taken aback.

"Not like Iason." Riki finished darkly, hanging his head.

Katze pressed his pointy chin to inky curls. He wanted to comfort his fellow mongrel, but there were no words.

It was the truth, ugly and dagger-sharp.

Iason, in his own tragic plight, was incapable of humanity.

Katze... Katze was. No matter the webs of animosity and jealousy and reluctant attachement that tied Riki and Katze, the fundamental fact remained.

Trust.

Riki spoke again, a sullen minute later. "It's... like your first time. You hurt, but you _chose_ it. You were doing it for me, and in the end it was good anyway."

And yeah, Katze got that.

Somewhere deep inside another abysmal canyon creaked shut.

Katze hugged Riki until he squeaked in protest.

"Thanks." He said simply, voice rough.

Riki didn't answer, just insinuated his fingers into Katze's belt loop.

"Now." Riki yawned dramatically. "Can we sleep?"

And Katze cracked a grin through the tears brimming treacherously in his eyes.

...

Cal had obviously visited the bedroom, because the sheets were changed and the window was cracked open.

True to his word, Riki happily snuggled against Katze and was asleep in minutes.

Katze remained awake, holding him.

...

Katze was still awake when Iason padded into the room. For a second, he considered feigning slumber, but he knew his breathing had already given him away.

"Better?" Iason asked, sliding into bed on the other side of Riki.

"Yes." Katze answered, because it was the truth.

"Good." Iason stretched, then settled onto his back where Katze couldn't see him.

"We'll assess your progress next wednesday." The Blondie's voice floated, rich with promise, in the darkness.

"Yes, Master." Katze replied. His voice hardly shook with the sudden jolt of nerves. Riki's hand squeezed his flank hard, strong and reassuring. Not that asleep anymore, then.

Riki stayed right where he was, slumped heavy over Katze's body.

"I love wednesdays." The Pet slurred.

Iason's chuckle was filled with satisfaction.

Katze grinned.

He loved wednesdays too... even if this one had nearly broken him.

* * *

 _I am still uncertain concerning my writing plans. I am hesitating to launch myself into another epic multi-chap fanfic. There's this original work that's been slowly building for years that feels almost ready._

 _Anyway, writing in Katze's Verse was just as intense and emotional as always for me._

 _Thank you all for the support and comments! Any particular wishes?_

 _xxx_

 _FrenchCaresse_


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